Parisian Fairytale
by Louise Lewin
Summary: "What do you want to be?" I asked, leaning ever closer. "I want to be your everything." Two people, two worlds, one city. One weekend that could lead to a forever. O/S. BPOV. AH, M. *MSB Challenge #01 Winning Entry*


**This was my entry for Ms Swan's Bookstore's Challenge #1, and I won! I'm amazed and thrilled! A beautiful banner made by _ kstewandrpatz_ (link on profile) was posted to inspire entries and this idea came to me. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to A Jasper For Me for beta'ing, and for everyone who voted!**

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**Parisian Fairytale**

Everyone knows what it's like not to belong. For some of us it's the little things, like being picked last in gym or being at a party where you don't know anyone. But for some of us, we feel like we don't belong on the big scale. It's everywhere you look, every minute of every day, from the moment he kisses you goodbye in the morning 'til the moment he collapses, spent, on top of you at night, and every moment in between.

I stared out of the window of the private jet at the downy white clouds, feeling old before my time. At twenty-one years old, I felt like I should have found my place in the world. I had everything a girl could wish for, from the sporty Porsche Cayman and the Manolos on my pedicured feet, to the Manhattan penthouse and the five carat diamond on my finger. Why, then, did it feel like I have nothing?

"Isabella?"

I broke free from my musings at the sound of Jessica calling my name. "Sorry, what did I miss?"

"I asked why you look like someone kicked your Chihuahua. This is your bachelorette party; loosen up!"

She raised her glass of Cristal and promptly refilled my own. I took a sip, knowing I would need it to get through a long weekend with this pack of hyenas I called friends. I slipped the mask back on and gave her an enthusiastic grin, clinking my glass against hers.

I glanced around the decorated cabin. Everywhere I looked, phallus-shaped objects hung. Balloons, whistles, party horns … everything was a penis. I was seriously considering switching teams at this point. Apparently money could not buy taste when it came to bachelorette parties, especially those organised by the Alaskan goddesses, Tanya, Kate and Irina.

"Alright, listen up, ladies!" Tanya called from the front of the cabin, sheets of paper in her hands. "I've just spoken to the captain—"

A chorus of wolf whistles rang out, knowing her penchant for men on the side.

"He can captain my ship any time," she purred, provoking a round of cackles as she tossed back her blonde hair. "But, I digress. We will be landing in Paris in thirty minutes! I thought now would be a good chance to go over the itinerary. We're staying at George V, of course. Tonight is dinner and drinks, possibly a club if we feel up to it, but as for tomorrow … Moulin Rouge!"

"_Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?" _Jessica and Lauren sang, dreadfully out of tune.

I zoned out as I looked down at the timetable before me. Shopping, spa, more shopping … jeez, this was one of the most cultural cities of the world. We could have stayed in New York and done all of this! I'd been to Paris before, hell, I could speak fluent French by the time I was ten, but I'd never really had the chance to explore. It looked like I wouldn't get to this time either.

.

.

Paris was a hive of activity as usual, the whimsical streets full of people revelling in the end of the working week. One thing I loved about this city was the size, so much smaller than most major metropolises. It felt so much more intimate, almost magical, the lights along the boulevards reflecting on the Seine, glittering like pixie-dust. If fairytales did exist, this would be the backdrop for sure.

I climbed in the first chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce with my closest 'friend', Charlotte. She wasn't a bad person, a little vapid and snobbish, but unlike the others she seemed to care about me and how I felt. The others couldn't tell whether I was laughing or crying inside, but Charlotte seemed to sense my mood.

"So, how are you really?" she asked as the car pulled away from Charles de Gaulle airport.

"I'm okay," I lied.

She arched a perfectly-waxed eyebrow. "Look, Isabella, I wish I understood better. Really, I do. I mean, Michael's rich, he looks after you, and your dad obviously approves of him. You're set for life, you never have to work or worry about money. So, I won't lie and say I understand your unhappiness, but I will say this; I'm here to talk to if you need to vent."

"Thanks, Charlotte," I said, giving her a little smile before pulling out my phone and sending a quick text to Michael, telling him I had landed safely.

An hour later, we pulled up outside the George V, its sparkling glass doors with ornate black and gold edging emitting a golden glow from within. We checked in and went to our rooms while the bellhops set about bringing in the luggage. I was glad I had insisted on my own room; some of the girls wanted the 'bachelorette party experience' of sharing, as if they were roughing it somehow. I barked out a laugh at the thought as I took in my opulent surroundings.

I was in the most romantic city in the world, in one of the most luxurious hotels, but these facts did nothing to warm me inside. I felt like an outsider looking in, even though this was what I'd been raised to expect. I had parents, but not a mom and dad. I'd had toys, but no one to play with. I had intelligence, but I was told higher education was a waste of time. Quite simply, I grew up in a world where money bought everything, but it couldn't seem to buy me a place in the world. A place I fit. And yet soon I would be chained to this non-life forever; the thought made my stomach lurch.

Pushing the loneliness and melancholy away, I set to organising my clothes. Years of watching nannies unpack clothes for me had ingrained the behaviour, so I hung up my designer gowns to keep them from creasing and put the rest in the drawers. When all my clothes were away, I realised I would have to rush to meet the schedule, so I grabbed my toiletries and climbed in the vast shower stall, enveloping myself in the honey and cinnamon scented soap.

When I was done, I wrapped myself in a fluffy bathrobe and went to pick out my outfit. I really wished I could just wear jeans, but the girls would have my ass if I did, so I chose a short, teal Donna Karan bandage dress, sleeveless with a square neckline, and paired it with nude Christian Louboutins.

I blow dried my long, chestnut locks straight and applied the least make-up I could hope to pull off with the girls. It was nearing 7 PM, so with one final glance in the mirror and a spritz of perfume, I grabbed my black wool coat and my clutch and was out the door.

.

.

As soon as we left the two-Michelin-star restaurant, Le Cinq, we climbed into a limousine to take us the short distance down the Champs Elysées. Walking was deemed far below us, apparently, and Jane was afraid we would be robbed by the 'hoi polloi' as she called them. I couldn't refrain from rolling my eyes at that.

The car rolled about thirty seconds down the street before we reached our destination, Bound Bar, renowned for its cocktails. We were led upstairs to the VIP area, naturally, and all sank into plush chairs around two large round tables. I set my clutch beside me, when suddenly I heard the most exquisite male voice. It was rough while smooth, like the richest, darkest chocolate with cream filling melting on your tongue.

"Hello, ladies," it said, the accent British. _Unghhhh!_ "My name is Edward, I'll be your server tonight. Anything I can do for you, please let me know."

I lifted my eyes, letting them travelling over his black pants, his tight black t-shirt stretched over his muscular but lean body, showing his well-toned arms. His strong, angular jaw was covered in light stubble, and his lips looked soft and kissable. Atop his head was a shock of messy dark hair that reflected red streaks under the ambient lighting, but finally, what caught my attention were his eyes. I couldn't tell the colour from here, but the moment our gaze locked, I felt a physical jolt run through my body, as if jump-starting my heart.

Home. That's what they felt like, as if I'd suddenly remembered who I really was and had been living a lie the last two decades. It was like recognising a part of myself I didn't know I'd lost until just now.

He cleared his throat, smiling politely at our group but never taking his eyes off me. "So, can I get you girls anything?"

Tanya spoke up, which didn't surprise me. "Oh honey, _you_ can give us anything you like."

All the girls giggled while I continued to stare. He chuckled along awkwardly. "Well, you've come to the best place if you're looking for cocktails."

"I don't know about the tail, but I'm certainly looking for c-"

"Tanya!" I hissed.

After much laughter from the girls, we all gave Edward our orders. I decided on a champagne cocktail since I'd been drinking bubbles earlier and didn't feel like mixing it with hard liquor.

"So, Isabella," Irina said when Edward walked away from the table. "Now that we're out of the hotel and can let our hair down, we decided it's time to give you a couple of little gifts!"

I held in my groan at the thought.

"First of all, open this," she said gleefully, handing me a flat, silver-papered box. I opened the lid and this time I did groan aloud. Inside were white and silver fairy-wings with 'Bride-to-be' spelled out in Swarovski crystals.

"You've got to wear it!" Chelsea insisted, reaching back to help me attach it.

After the wings came a little magic wand to go with it, and then a serious present; a baby blue silk and lace garter to be worn on my wedding day, just one month from now.

A combination of that reality check and the alcohol I'd consumed with dinner made my eyes sting, and the girls aww'd and ahh'd, mistaking my glistening eyes for joy and gratitude. I did thank them profusely though, because  
even though they were pretentious, stuck-up and self-centred, they were doing something nice for me.

A flute of blackcurrant fizz was placed in front of me, and I glanced up, meeting Edward's gaze. I could see now his eyes were the most unique pair I'd ever encountered, almost turquoise with an emerald rim. Just like him, they were beautiful, but whereas earlier they sparkled, now they looked pained. I scrunched my eyebrows up in confusion.

_What's the matter? _ I silently asked.

He nodded to the wings on my back, and gave me a sad smile. "Congratulations," he mouthed.

I nodded my thanks and turned away from him, away from those captivating eyes that enveloped me like a welcome embrace. It felt so utterly wrong to do so, I almost felt my heart splinter.

As the girls and I chatted and laughed, I kept my mask in place, not letting anyone see the turmoil I was in underneath. I subtly watched Edward as he worked over at the bar, drinking him in as he chatted to a leggy blonde waitress. White-hot envy ran through me, which was completely irrational, but real all the same.

"So, Isabella," Charlotte said, sinking down into the empty seat beside me when some girls got up to dance. "What's going on between you and Mr. Sex-on-Legs?"

"What do you mean?"

She laughed. "You've been eye-fucking him all night!"

I blushed a little, finishing the end of my drink. "He's hot, anyone can see that."

"Hmhmm. That's one fine piece of ass," she said. "Why don't you go talk to him?"

"For what purpose?" I asked. "I'm getting married, remember? That's the whole point of this three-ring circus."

"I'm just saying … you're not happy as you are, why not experience one last hurrah before you tie the knot?"

"Charlotte, are you actually encouraging me to have a one night stand with some guy on my _bachelorette _party?"

"I'm neither encouraging you nor discouraging you … just remember, I had my fun on mine, just like Tanya had hers. Don't be fooled into thinking Michael's going to give up fucking his secretary once you're married, and you can bet your ass he'll fuck a couple of strippers in Cabo." She got to her feet, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "And for the record, that fine hunk of a barman has been eye-fucking you right back!"

I went to the bathroom, splashing some cold water up my arms, trying to push Charlotte's words from my mind, but failing. Would it hurt to talk to him? Just talk and dispel my romantic imagination of love at first sight. Maybe he'd be boring, or cocky, or … maybe he'd be just plain perfect. Christ, I needed another drink.

As I was coming out of the restroom, I walked right into a wall. Except that wall was warm and smelled manly and clean with a hint of spice. I knew who it was before I even looked up.

"Hey Tink, you should watch where you're going," he said with mirth.

"Tink?" I asked.

His cheeks flushed slightly. "I heard your friends call you Isabella, and with the wings and all… Tinkerbelle. Tink. Kinda lame, I know, but that's what I've been calling you in my head."

"Not lame," I said, looking up at him, my hand still resting on his chest.

His grin could have lit up the room. "So then, did you need another drink or are you going dancing?"

"No dancing for me tonight," I said. "Heels, alcohol and jet lag aren't the best combination for that."

"Tell that to your friends," he joked.

I laughed. "Can I just get a water?"

"I think I can do that."

Slowly I removed my hand from his chest and he turned to walk back behind the bar. I hopped up on a stool and he handed me a mineral water.

"So Tink, what's your full name when you're not in fairy disguise?"

"Isabella Swan, but I prefer Bella."

He smiled before it turned into a grimace.

"What?" I asked.

"Is that your maiden name or your soon-to-be married name?" He looked so sad as he asked the question, I just wanted to reach over and hug him, have him hold me and steal me away.

"Maiden name," I replied. "My married name will be Newton."

"Bella Newton," he said, trying it out. "I don't like that as much as I like Bella Swan."

I laughed lightly. "No, me either." I wondered if he would catch on to my double meaning.

We shared a look of longing and loss so intense I felt a tear in my very being. In that instant, I wanted to know everything about him, from how he took his coffee to his biggest dreams, his childhood friends to his deepest fears.

"Bella … Tink … I know this sounds crazy, and it probably is. You can knee me in the junk if you want to but I have to say this. As cheesy as it sounds, I feel … I feel like I know you somehow. I feel like fate is playing a huge joke on me, showing me what I can't have. But even though I can't have it, I still want to talk to you. Maybe I'm only supposed to keep you for a few minutes tonight, or a few hours. I'm clocking off in ten minutes, and just thought I'd ask … do you want to go hang out or something?"

I was taken aback. He had articulated everything I was feeling inside, and I knew what my answer _should _be. I knew it could be dangerous, but somehow I _knew _I would be safe, and I found myself saying, "Yes."

His answering grin could have lit the whole of Paris.

"Do you have any comfier shoes?" he asked.

"I've got some Converse back at the hotel."

"Where are you staying?"

"George V."

He whistled. "Wow. Well, er, okay. I'll meet you there in say … half an hour?"

"Perfect," I replied, jumping down from the barstool and going in search of my friends.

Gianna, Jane and Chelsea were all sitting at the table looking a bit worse for wear but giggling over a bottle of champagne. I told them I was tired from the flight, which wasn't technically a lie, and asked them to pass the message along.

Once back at the hotel, I changed into a pair of skinny jeans, a sweater and my sneakers, before going down to meet Edward. I knew I should feel guilty about this, but I just couldn't bring myself to care right now. Besides, we were just hanging out.

I found Edward in the hotel lobby, the soft glow of the lamps making his beauty shine through even more.

"Hey Tink," he called.

"Hey."

"I know this twenty-four hour patisserie-slash-café just around the corner if you fancy it?" he asked, almost nervous at my reaction. "They do the best hot chocolate."

"That sounds amazing!" I gushed as he held open the door for me, rushing to get it instead of the doorman. Michael only did that when someone else was watching.

Almost putting his hand on the small of my back, Edward guided me outside. I could feel the heat from his skin even though he wasn't touching me.

"So, Bella Swan," he began. "Tell me about yourself?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Not much to tell, really."

"Well, you're certainly not the backpacking student," he said, chuckling.

"I know … I guess I'm not comfortable talking about myself."

Edward came to a stop, lifting my chin with his forefinger, his face full of understanding. "Tink, that's okay. Do you want to go back?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No! Just … maybe tell me about you?"

He smiled, grabbing my hand, and led me into a quaint little bakery. There was nothing lavish or posh about this place, but it was perfect, so cosy and beautiful. Pulling out a chair for me in the corner, Edward sat down opposite me and offered me his hand.

"Edward Cullen," he said. "The least I could do is introduce myself fully after I practically kidnapped you."

"I believe I came willingly, Mr. Cullen." I giggled, shaking his hand. Touching him felt like bathing in sunlight, and I was overwhelmed by the sense of completeness that ran through me when our skin made contact. Reluctantly, I pulled my hand back as the waitress took our order for two hot chocolates.

"So, you know what _I'm _doing in Paris," I said. "What about you?"

"I'm a university student from London," he answered. "I'm reading French with English, so when I had the chance to work in France, I couldn't resist the opportunity. I study at the Sorbonne here and work part time at the bar and sometimes at the library."

"Wow, that sounds both thrilling and terrifying," I said as the waitress placed our hot chocolates in front of us. "Do you live in dorms?"

"No, I live in an apartment with two other guys. The blonde waitress working tonight? That's one of the guys' girlfriends.

I was instantly relieved as I took a sip of the rich, chocolaty drink. I couldn't help a little moan escaping at the creamy texture, and I noticed Edward's eyes glaze over.

"So how come you work two jobs while studying?" I asked, trying to deflect from my Meg Ryan moment with my cocoa.

He frowned. "How else do you expect me to live?"

I thought about it for a minute. "Don't your parents help you?"

"They help as much as they can, but my mum's health isn't great and my dad does a lot of charity work with his medical practice. I get some grants, but otherwise, I work to put a roof over my head and food on my table."

I suddenly felt embarrassed by the diamond weighing down my finger. That alone could probably pay for Edward's tuition and living costs. I tried to be subtle in covering it up, but he laughed.

"Relax, Bella, I'm not going to judge you for being rich. You don't act like us poorer folk are inferior."

I giggled lightly and continued on with my drink, soaking up the ambience around me. "This is a side of Paris I've never seen," I sighed wistfully.

"What do you mean?"

"The everyday side, the people, the culture … my previous trips to Paris have mainly involved high-tea at the Ritz, Michelin-starred restaurants and haute couture shopping."

A smirk appeared on his perfect lips. "Well then, would you like to experience _my _side of Paris?"

.

.

After our hot chocolate, Edward and I went for a walk. I'd agreed I could probably wangle a few hours free this weekend, and I was excited.

I learnt of his love for football and music, from playing guitar to collecting vinyl, and learnt he wanted to be a translator. He told me all about his housemates, Jasper and Emmett, and their girlfriends Alice and Rose, telling anecdotes of all the trouble they got into. They sounded like a riot.

Edward was a gentleman, always walking nearest the curb, his hand protectively on my lower back as we crossed a road, he had a fantastic sense of humour, and was confident without being cocky.

With every passing second, I was unwittingly giving Edward Cullen another little piece of my heart. Somehow our fingers twined together as we walked up and down pretty boulevards. I supposed to the outsider we must look like lovers out for a midnight stroll, and I let myself pretend just for a second that it was true. I wanted to lose myself in the moment.

"Wow," I said as we approached the Eiffel tower, illuminated like a beacon in the darkness. "I've seen it before but it has always taken my breath away. It's just magical at night."

"It is," he murmured as we wound our way through the Champs de Mars. "I've never been up it though. I'm afraid of heights. That put paid to my childhood dream of becoming Spiderman."

I laughed, poking him in the ribs.

"Hey!" he protested. "It's very damaging for a little boy's dreams to be crushed like that."

"Sure it is, Peter Parker."

"You wound me, woman."

We watched as nearer the tower, a man got down on bended knee in front of his girlfriend, promptly sweeping her up into his arms when she clearly accepted his proposal.

I sighed. I hadn't had that with Michael. My engagement was more of a business arrangement to align our two families than anything. As far as he was concerned, as long as I got a big rock on my finger, that constituted romance. I wondered what a proposal would be like coming from Edward if life were different, but that was a foolish thought which would only bring me pain.

"Do you believe in soul mates?" I asked, turning to face him. "Love at first sight, fate, that kind of thing?"

"Yes," he said vehemently, locking eyes with me. "My parents have been happily married for twenty-five years and swear they knew they were meant to be from the moment they met. What about you?"

"You're talking to the girl who was practically sold to the highest bidder," I said, chuckling harshly.

He frowned, and I instantly felt bad for not being more grateful for my situation.

"Don't get me wrong," I said, "my father would never make me marry someone who wouldn't look after me, and I'll always be provided for, so really I'm very lucky."

"Are you really, Bella?" Edward asked, his voice low. "Do you count yourself lucky? Or is that what you think you _should _feel?"

I suddenly became aware of our close proximity. Our chests were practically touching, both breathing deeply. I knew it was wrong, but I was utterly unable to stop this runaway freight train. As guilty as I felt, if I didn't kiss him, I would spend the rest of my life regretting it.

"I'm scared, Edward," I whispered, resting my hand over his thumping heart.

"So am I," he replied. "I should run away from you because you aren't mine as much as I want you to be. But I'm more scared to go through my life knowing I threw away the chance to get to know someone as wonderful as you."

"I can't be your friend." It would be too dangerous; he meant too much to me to be a friend.

"I know, and I don't want to be your friend."

"What do you want to be?" I asked, leaning ever closer.

"I want to be your everything," he murmured.

Tears welled in my eyes. "I can't leave him. I'd be disowned."

He nodded sadly, and I couldn't bear it. Wanting to give him _something, _I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. Slowly our mouths moved together as we savoured each other's taste. His hand wound in my hair and I moaned lowly into his mouth. It was an absolutely toe-curling, spine-tingling kiss.

When we broke apart for air, Edward's smile was bittersweet, but his eyes seemed to shine with love.

.

.

That night I made a decision to just go with the flow this weekend. If I thought about leaving on Monday, I wouldn't enjoy my time, so I decided to push it to the back of my mind.

The girls and I shopped in the morning, or rather they shopped and I watched, before I pleaded with them to let me go to an exhibit at the Louvre. I knew none of them would be interested in going, so at midday, I left them to their boutiques. Whether they fully believed me or not was another matter, but my behaviour was nowhere near as scandalous as some of theirs had been at their bachelorette parties.

That afternoon we took a boat trip on the Seine, feeling the cool autumnal breeze blowing off the water. I stood in a protective cage of Edward's arms against the railing, my back against his chest as we watched Paris pass us by.

"Where are you from, Tink?" he asked, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Unless you're still uncomfortable talking about it."

"It's okay," I said, resting my head against his chest. "I'm from New York—Long Island, originally, but now I live in Manhattan."

I felt him nod as I continued to talk, fiddling with the ostentatious rock on my finger. "My father owns a billion-dollar pharmaceutical company so he was pretty disappointed when his first-born was a girl. He was even more devastated when my mother haemorrhaged and needed a hysterectomy. I think they've always resented my birth for that. I was passed straight to a team of staff; I doubt my parents even held me. From day one it was pressed upon me that my job was to marry who my father chose to take over the company from him one day."

I felt myself choke on the words. "Nothing I've ever done has been good enough. I used to like school; I even got some applications for college but my mother intercepted them and tore them to pieces in front of me. She said a suitable husband would never accept a wife with a job, so why go to college? Since then, I've just had to endure the high society bullshit day-in day-out."

"I'm so sorry, Bella," he whispered, dropping a kiss in my hair.

"It's okay," I sniffled. "I'll never want for anything. As I said last night, I'm luckier than most, and I try not to take it for granted, but I don't succeed all the time."

"Is he good to you?" Edward asked sadly. "Does he treat you well?"

"He does," I admitted.

"Are you happy with him?"

I shut my eyes against the sting of tears. "Please don't ask me that question, Edward."

Again, I felt him nod, and he tightened his arms around me. It was heaven.

After the boat trip, we stopped to get a snack of freshly baked baguettes, but all too soon, our day came to an end. We had to get back to our respective lives.

.

.

Sunday afternoon, I managed to get another free pass after a morning at the spa.

I changed into my sneakers again and took a taxi to the Champs de Mars, where the Eiffel Tower stood. It was _our _place, and sure enough my bronze-haired beau was waiting for me, a radiant grin on his face when he saw me.

"I thought you might like to go visit the Latin Quarter," he said, after greeting me with a delicious, heart-stopping kiss. "The architecture is just amazing and there are some really quaint little bistros and bars."

I grinned. That sounded perfect.

Edward took great delight in showing me the Sorbonne and pointing out his favourite haunts. As we walked along arm-in-arm, we passed a little jewellery shop, not the high-end Cartier type, but the eclectic, unique kind. I dragged him in and wandered around, looking at the handmade wares. While he was down at the other end of the shop, I couldn't resist buying Edward a leather necklace with a silver guitar pick.

"What time do you have to be back?" he asked sadly as we emerged onto the street again, the sun beginning to go down.

I looked at my watch. "Technically, now. But I'm not ready to go yet." _I'll never be ready._

"Do you want to get a drink then maybe some dinner? I know the perfect place."

I texted Charlotte and Tanya and both told me it was fine, giving me the name of the club they were going to later. Edward led me down the little rue and into a cosy little bar with a crackling fire.

"I love this place," he said, sliding into the booth beside me. "It reminds me of my local pub back home."

"It's beautiful."

"Hmm," he agreed, but he was staring directly at me.

I dropped my eyes, reaching into my bag before I lost my nerve. "I got you something," I said.

"You didn't have to, Bella," he said, carefully opening the tissue paper. I watched the mixture of joy and sadness wash over his face as he lifted up the necklace.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get it engraved," I said.

He shook his head, his eyes glistening. Slowly he leant across and kissed me sweetly.

"I got you something, too," he murmured when we pulled apart.

From the pocket of his jacket he pulled a little package. I unwrapped the tissue paper, revealing a beautiful silver charm bracelet. Dangling from it was a little fairy.

"Even if you only wear it for tonight, I wanted you to have something to remember me by," he said, his voice thick. "You may be about to become Isabella Newton, but to me, you'll always be my Tinkerbelle."

I swallowed. "I'll treasure it," I whispered, letting him put it on before I buried my face in his neck, hoping to hide the tear that fell from my eye. He smelt so fresh and masculine, so _Edward,_ I just wanted to stay here forever.

We had a couple of drinks before Edward took me to a restaurant/club that was popular with students. Later that night as we danced to a live band, I could feel his hardness pressing against my stomach. I ached to be alone with him, to have him make love to me and bring me to the heights of pleasure. We knew we were running out of time and would never have the chance again.

I leant in as he was dropping open-mouthed kisses on my neck, and whispered. "Take me home."

He pulled back, looking chastened. "I'm sorry, Bella, I shouldn't have pushed."

"No, Edward; I meant, take me home with you tonight."

His eyes widened, but they were hooded and dark with lust. He took my hand, and after we had fetched our jackets, hailed a cab outside. The drive back to his apartment was filled with sexual tension, our hands entwined, and occasionally he would steal a kiss, but we didn't want to get carried away in the back of the taxi.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I just couldn't stop it. The attraction and connection was too strong to be ignored.

We pulled up at an apartment building fifteen minutes' drive away, with Edward insisting on paying the fare.

"Is anyone home?" I asked him.

"I doubt it, they usually go to the Student Union on a Sunday."

He led me up to his second floor apartment. No lights were on and it was completely silent, so it looked like we were alone. It was a simple place, and although it was kind of untidy, it looked clean.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Edward asked as we passed the kitchen.

I shook my head.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want you to make love to me," I whispered, maintaining eye contact.

"Bella, I don't want you to regret this." He sounded pained.

"I won't."

He led me into his room, and sat us down on the bed. "Can you take your ring off?" he asked tentatively. "I know you're not mine, but tonight … you are."

I nodded, slipping my ring into my jeans pocket.

Cradling my face in his hands, Edward started to kiss me slowly and sweetly. Soon we were nipping and sucking at each other's lips, tongues massaging one another as I moved to straddle him. His arousal was pressed against me and I couldn't help but grind against him, making him groan.

Our clothes were shed, unwrapping each other, piece by piece, teasingly. Edward's body was as magnificent as the rest of him. When we were naked, he lay me down on the bed reverentially, kissing his way down my body, feasting on my breasts, down to my toes and back up until he reached my sex. Maintaining eye contact the whole time, I leant up on my elbows and he tasted me, sucking and licking my clit.

With just his tongue and fingers, he brought me to the brink and back again and again before finally allowing the orgasmic bliss to wash over me, making me cry out for him.

As I recovered, he rolled on a condom, and hovered above me on his forearms. My legs parted to grant him access to my body.

He looked me deep in the eyes as he slid inside me, and we kept that connection as he began to thrust in and out. Our bodies moved sinuously, two halves of a whole joining together in the most beautiful way as our hips met repeatedly to the sound of our low moans and whimpers.

_Do you feel that? _My eyes asked silently.

_I feel it, _was his unspoken reply.

"Edward," I whispered, feeling my abdomen wind tight. "More, please."

He sped up the pace, adding fuel to the fire burning between us.

"Bella … so good … never felt anything … like this before," he murmured breathlessly, his words caressing me sensually. "So beautiful."

I moaned, the combination of his sweet whispers and his powerful, long thrusts setting off an explosion deep within me as I climaxed, provoking his own release. He came with a shudder and a guttural groan, collapsing on top of me, panting.

I held him to my chest, stroking the damp hair at the nape of his neck. We didn't speak as we let our breathing return to normal, and I fought back emotion. If what we had just done was wrong, I didn't want it to be right.

We made love twice more that night and once more in the soft light of dawn. Afterwards, we kissed languidly for what could have been minutes or hours, sharing mutual sighs of contentment in our own little bubble. He trailed callused fingers over my porcelain skin, propping himself up on his elbow, the sheet draped low across his waist.

"Tink," Edward said reverently, "look at me."

I brought my eyes to his.

"There's so much I want, _need _to say, but nothing sounds right," he said. "You've come into my life and blown me away. It may have only been a few days, but I need you like I need air to breathe."

I stroked his arm. "Edward, you know I have responsibilities. I can't escape who I am."

"You escape who you are every day, if not in deed then in thought. You don't belong in that world; you're not a socialite Barbie-doll who loves waving the shiny black plastic and hanging on her fiancé's arm. You're Bella Swan, a real woman with feelings and dreams and fears, a woman who I lo-"

"Don't do this, Edward," I said, throwing back the covers and pulling on my jeans and sweater. "That's the only place I've ever known. If I don't belong there, I don't belong anywhere." I knew those words were a lie.

"Yes, you do!" he replied, wrapping the sheet around his waist as he stood up, capturing my hands. "You belong here … with me."

My eyes filled with tears as I tried to shake my head and deny it.

"Bella, I know you don't want me to say it, but I can't let you leave knowing I didn't try everything …" He paused. "It's utterly crazy but the moment I saw you in the bar, I knew you were The One. If you walk out that door, I'll still be sitting waiting here in Paris when I'm ninety telling everyone who stops to listen about the brunette beauty who stole my heart."

I snapped my eyes to his.

"I love you, Bella," he whispered fervently, cupping my cheek. "Tell me you don't love me too and I'll stop fighting for you. I'll let you leave and you can go back to your million dollar life and forget all about me."

I wanted to shout my love for him, tell him I would never be able to forget him as long as I lived and that I would give up my lifestyle in an instant if it meant being with him.

But I couldn't. My parents were relying on me, and I knew I had to see it through.

As I watched Edward's pleading face, I realised if I told him how I felt, and still left anyway, he would be in more pain and would take longer to get over me. So I summoned my nerve to break the heart of the only man I'd ever loved.

"Edward," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "This has been fun, but let's not try to pretend it's more than it was." The words were like white-hot lances through my heart. "I'll always think fondly of you, but now it's time for me to get back to _my _world and my fiancé. I told you from the start I wouldn't leave him. Did you seriously think I would?"

His crestfallen expression turned to one of anger. "Bullshit, Bella!"

"We had a good time, Edward, but me and you? We just don't fit." I hated myself for every spiteful, stuck-up word that came out my mouth.

"I may not have known you for very long but I sure know you in here-" he patted the spot over his heart, "-and I know when you're lying. How can you bear to walk away?"

"That's just it, Edward, you don't know me at all," I lied, my hand on the doorknob. "It was only ever just a fling to me."

_It was everything. I love you. I'm so sorry._

I escaped out the door before he could say anything else. As I ran downstairs I heard a loud crash from the apartment, but I couldn't go back to check. Once out into the street, tears now flowing freely down my cheeks, I hailed a cab and didn't look back.

.

.

I was an inconsolable mess when I got back to the hotel, distraught over the loss of Edward and the cruel words I had said. I tried to convince myself that it was for the best, but I wasn't fooling anyone.

I wanted to stay in my room and weep uncontrollably, but the girls insisted I join them for brunch before we left for the airport. Just the thought made my heart hurt even more, but I washed my face and applied some make-up to cover up my puffy eyes.

As we sat around the table with mimosas, I forced myself to smile, though it took every ounce of strength I had. I'd made my choice, now I just had to endure it.

"I'd like to make a toast," Kate said, getting to her feet. "I think it's safe to say Isabella enjoyed her bachelorette party … in more ways than one!"

They all giggled.

"Don't worry, as always, the rule applies. What happens in Vegas and all that." Kate tapped her nose and I tried to join in with the laughter, but it was hollow. They were making something seedy of me meeting the love of my life.

"Seriously though, Isabella; we all wish you every luck with your marriage to Michael. To Isabella Newton!"

"Isabella Newton!" they chorused, and I felt sick. I never wanted to hear that name again. I wanted to be Bella Cullen one day. Suddenly it dawned on me, as if I hadn't realised before, that one day someone else would take his name. Would she be an Amy? Tiffany? Brianne? Whoever she was, one day she would walk down the aisle to him, bear his children and grow old with him. It may not be this month or even this year, but eventually Edward would fall in love with someone free to return his affection. Men like him don't stay single.

I hated the faceless woman already, and I had to run to the bathroom to empty my stomach.

"Isabella, are you in here?" Charlotte called from outside the stalls. I flushed and opened the door.

"Yeah, I'm here," I said croakily.

She handed me my vanity case that I'd left with our luggage. "I thought you might need that."

"Thanks." I brushed my teeth, the motion causing light to glint off the charm bracelet I still wore.

"What is that on your wrist?!" she asked. "You better take it off before Michael sees it. You had fun, Bella, but we're going back to the real world now."

I rinsed my mouth before shakily reaching for the clasp. I paused. This was my most prized possession in all the world, why was I taking it off again? _Why? _Why was I doing this, marrying a man I didn't love to keep a lifestyle I didn't like and trying to win approval from my parents? Who was I kidding? They were two of the most self-centred individuals in the world. I would never win their love and attention, even if I met every single one of their demands. I was just the child they'd always resented for not being a boy. Why should I deny myself a chance at true love just to please them?

"Ladies, the cars will be arriving in ten minutes!" Tanya said as she popped her head into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I froze, and Charlotte looked back at me over her shoulder.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

She turned on her heel, the question clearly rhetorical. Except it wasn't to me.

"No," I said, making her stop still.

She spun around, looking at me like I was crazy. "What did you say?"

"I said 'no'. I'm not coming. Tell everyone I need a few days to myself, or I'm stopping in at the London house. Tell them I've run off and joined the circus for all I care!" I laughed lightly, feeling free as if the shackles were flying off. "Please, Charlotte, I'm begging you!"

Charlotte looked like I had lost my mind, but I insisted. Finally she relented, and I went to extend my stay. Father wouldn't cut me off for at least another few days.

From upstairs in my room, I watched as the cars pulled away from the curb and reality suddenly hit me. What if I was too late? What if Edward didn't want me anymore?

No, I refused to believe the damage was irreparable.

I grabbed my jacket and a scarf, reaching for the doorknob when a glint caught my eye from my left hand. I quickly pulled off my engagement ring, and took off down the hall. As soon as I was on street, I started walking, needing the time to sort my head out. I couldn't think past talking to Edward, but I needed to get the words right. I knew my place was by his side, wherever that might be. Suddenly I couldn't walk fast enough.

Approaching the Eiffel Tower, I decided I would hail a cab and just do my best to beg Edward to listen to me, when suddenly I saw a familiar mop of bronze hair. He was standing there, right where we'd shared that first kiss just three days ago, rocking scruffy chic in a hoody and a jacket, his hands shoved deep in his faded jean pockets as he stared up at the tower.

I slowed my pace, just admiring his silhouette. My heart ached at the slump in his shoulders.

"I hope you're not thinking of climbing that thing, Spiderman," I said as I neared.

He froze, slowly turning to face me. "Bella?"

I nodded, scuffing the heel of my boot into the ground. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but now words escaped me.

"Shouldn't you be on a plane?" he asked. His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked tired, but he still took my breath away.

"Probably," I replied. "But I left something behind."

He swallowed thickly. "What?"

"My heart."

He sucked in a breath as we stood in a tense stand-off, almost wary of the other's movements.

"I have nothing to offer you," he warned.

I shrugged, closing the gap slightly. "Neither will I when they find out what I'm doing. My trust fund will be blocked and I have no qualifications for a real job."

His brow furrowed. "I don't want you to suffer for me, Bella."

"I'm suffering just by being without you, Edward; I'm missing a part of myself. Everything you said this morning was right; I don't belong in that world. You are wrong about one thing, though."

"What's that?"

"You do have something to offer me: you." I took another step closer, taking his hand in mine as I gazed up at him. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch; you have to know, I lied, Edward. I couldn't see a way out that wouldn't end in suffering, so I took the coward's way out and thought if I hurt you short-term it would be better in the long run."

"What changed?" he asked, his expression unreadable.

"I realised one day you would move on, and it may make me a horrible person, but that just _killed _me. I know I've done things all wrong, but I don't want you to move on. I was yours the moment I locked eyes with you. I was just afraid. I'm so sorry."

"Bella," he murmured, his voice full of emotion. "Are you afraid now?"

I nodded. "I'm afraid you won't want me. I'm afraid it's not going to work and I'll be left with no one and nothing … but what's scarier is the thought of walking away."

I raised his hand up, kissing the pad of each finger tenderly as tears spilled over.

"I don't know if I've blown my chance, Edward, but I need you to know … I love you, too. It doesn't seem like a strong enough word to describe what I feel for you, but I do, I love you so much I can't contain it."

His own eyes were glistening now as he smiled. "Sweet girl, I would have waited a thousand years for you to come back to me. I could never have moved on; I would have always been waiting in the wings, hoping fate would step in again. I love you with all my heart and nothing can change that."

I gave a watery, but beaming grin as he pulled me closer to him, wrapping my hands around his strong biceps. Our breath mingled as we rested our foreheads against each other. Slowly, he brought his soft lips to mine, kissing me gently, sensually. I poured everything into the kiss, and received as much in return. The love emanating from Edward was tangible.

When we broke apart, breathing heavily, I was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze.

"Stay with me," he begged. "I can't give you the world, but I promise I will love you every day of your life, with everything I have in me. I want to be there for every smile, every laugh, every tear. Things might not always be easy, but I promise I will never let you down. Just stay by my side."

"Edward, you've already changed my life for the better," I murmured. "I want you to make love to me every night and I want to wake up every morning in your arms. One day I want to take your name and have bronze-haired, green-eyed, British-accented babies with you."

He laughed, a beautiful, jubilant laugh from deep within his chest.

"So, yes," I continued, grinning back. "I'll stay by your side. I want nothing more, and I never will."

He lifted me up off the ground, making me squeal with glee, and kissed me fervently, this one more heated than before. Wrapped safely in his arms, I knew that no matter what lay ahead, we would be okay, because I had Edward and he had me. It was my own Cinderella story, but I was going from riches to rags, and I couldn't be happier about it. I finally had a place I fit.

Maybe fairytales really did exist, after all.


End file.
